


Lullabye

by rhodrymavelyne



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:08:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26736373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhodrymavelyne/pseuds/rhodrymavelyne
Summary: Will has a family of his own, yet he still dreams of Hannibal, entering his mind palace when he sleeps.
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Molly Graham
Kudos: 7





	Lullabye

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after Will marries Molly before the Great Red Dragon arc. I don’t own Hannibal but for months it has owned me.

He had a home, a wife and a son. A family. Only when he dreamed, he found himself searching for his other family. He walked through room after room searching for Abigail. He’d hoped he’d find her in this place, but there were no guarantees. Abigail was dead.

Will Graham felt himself falling into a soft embrace of cushion waiting for him, waiting to envelop him. 

Sing a dirge for Abigail, no, not a dirge. A lullabye, like the ones my father used to sing. Old Welsh lullabyes; full of lovely, sad, strange imagery. They’d always frightened Will, yet comforted him. Fear and comfort walked hand in hand, carrying him to sleep. Someone was playing one of those lullabyes right now on a harpsichord, the very one his father used to sing. 

“Don’t be sad, Will.” Only it was Hannibal playing, striking each note with careful precision, touching the keys with the gentle intimacy of a lover. Had Alana sat next to him on the bench while he played? She must have breathed in the music, breathed in Hannibal’s presence, never smelling the faint scent of blood clinging to him. He’d been meticulous in keeping it off his clothing. 

Where was he? Lying on a sofa a safe distance from the harpsichord, except there were no safe distances in Hannibal’s lair, even when you felt safe. The music caressed his eyelids, stroked his brain under his skin. 

“Clever way of seducing me,” Will murmured, sliding into dreams of darkness which crept into the corners of this place. Droplets of water hit pools with the exact same timbre as the harpsichord. The stag man was waiting, always waiting. How long would he be content to simply watch Will from a distance? The closest he’d come was to eat Will’s brain. 

Only it had been Hannibal. It had always been Hannibal and Will wasn’t really here. 

“I have to be clever.” Fingers touched his cheek, not possible. When had Hannibal stopped playing? How had Will failed to notice? “Otherwise you’ll flee.”

Was that true? Will was no longer sure. He wasn’t trying to flee now. He had another life, a life was happy in waiting for him once he woke up.

Why was he trying to sink into the dream? 

“Where would I go?” He asked the question he’d asked years ago after spilling the blood of Randall Tier. “I no longer have everywhere to go.”

**Author's Note:**

> The question "Where would I go?" and other bits of dialogue hearken back to Naka Choko when Hannibal binds Will's had right after Will killed Randall Tier.


End file.
